


better by your side

by tookumade



Series: SportsFest - 2018 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 08:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15021074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/tookumade
Summary: Quiet footsteps shuffle to a stop by the doorway, and then continue to make their way in. Akaashi opens his eyes, and—“Kozume,” he says, startled.





	better by your side

**Author's Note:**

> SportsFest 2018 Bonus Round 1 prompt:
> 
>  **Ship/Character:** Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma  
>  **TIME:** a summer evening  
>  **PLACE:** a laundromat

It’s hot and humid, sticky and gross, even at this time of night, and Akaashi is reminded why he can’t stand the summer. The laundromat doesn’t have a fan or aircon, the whirring of the machine at work makes everything hazy, and he feels heavier and slower than usual.  
  
It had been Bokuto and Kuroo’s fault. Them, two glasses of Coke, a bottle of Tabasco sauce (neither of them can even _handle_ spicy food, Akaashi thinks to himself in a silent complaint), the leftovers of the dinner they’d been having, an out-of-control play-fight, and… well, the result was a heap of Akaashi’s bedding manchester that had been ruined, both glasses and the sauce bottle broken, and Akaashi slaying both Bokuto and Kuroo with a look that made them bow their heads in shame.  
  
After they promised to buy him a new set of everything they had broken, he had left them to clean up while he took the manchester to the 24/7 laundromat nearby. He might find that they’ve broken and ruined more stuff in his absence, but _surely_ not, _surely_ they had more sense than _that_.  
  
It’s too hot to think. So Akaashi doesn’t. He closes his eyes and, sitting on the bench in the laundromat, he tilts his head back so that it’s pressed against the wall. He is alone right now, and it feels kind of weird, like an odd sort of disconnection from the outside world—people walk past but don’t come in, don’t give this place a second glance, and who could blame them, who would be here if they didn’t have to be, who would be here instead of a nice airconditioned room?  
  
Quiet footsteps shuffle to a stop by the doorway, and then continue to make their way in. Akaashi opens his eyes, and—  
  
“Kozume,” he says, startled.  
  
Kenma nods in greeting and sits on the bench beside him, the gap just enough to fit another person. He doesn’t pull out his phone or his PSP like Akaashi expects, but instead folds his hands in his lap and watches the washer in front of them whirl and whirl.  
  
“Kuro sent me,” he says. “He said you were probably mad at him and Bokuto-san, and to make sure you’re okay.”  
  
“I’m—” Akaashi frowns. “I’m not _mad_ , I’m just…” He makes a helpless gesture at the washer with his hand.  
  
Kenma’s expression softens, and Akaashi feels a wild swoop somewhere in the pit of his stomach, like he’s been put through one of the washers himself. “You’re too gentle with them,” says Kenma. “You can roast them every now and then; it’d probably do them some good.”  
  
“Everyone says I roast Bokuto-san enough,” says Akaashi before he can stop himself, and Kenma huffs the smallest of laughs, almost lost in the whirring of the machines if Akaashi hadn’t been playing attention.  
  
“But you’re too polite around Kuro. It’s okay, you know; he can take it. And it’s not like he’s all that much older than you.”  
  
Kenma and his distaste for formalities. Akaashi leans his head back against the wall. He never understood it, but maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing, learning from him.  
  
(It’s almost admirable, almost envious. It’s too hot to think right now.)  
  
“I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised you came out here,” says Akaashi slowly. “I thought you hated the heat.”  
  
“I do,” says Kenma. “But this is fine.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”  
  
“That’s… oh.”  
  
They fall into silence for a moment. The summer heat isn’t as stifling anymore, Akaashi feels lighter, and he wonders what had changed.  
  
(But honestly—he knows.)  
  
“Thank you,” he says, quiet enough that it’s almost lost in the whirring of the machines if Kenma isn’t paying attention—  
  
He is, and Akaashi knows this.  
  
“It’s okay,” says Kenma.  
  
With another swoop of his stomach, Akaashi says, “After I drop these off back home… do you want to grab something small to eat? The cafe down the road does a really nice apple pie.”  
  
With a thoughtful hum, Kenma reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping at it until a colourful game pops up on his screen.  
  
“Sure,” he says. “We can get Kuro to pay for it.”  
  
“Bokuto-san, too.”  
  
“Sounds good.”  
  
There are soft beeping and sword-swinging noises coming from his phone. Akaashi smiles and closes his eyes again.  
  
He can’t stand the summer—neither of them can—but this? This is all right.


End file.
